Beyond Reason
by Keruseya Natsuki
Summary: In the year 2011, the blackhaired boy returned for him, claiming that Lewis would be faced with a great life or death situation. He had to go back to the future. Three finally up! Four soon to come.
1. Prologue

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Beyond Reason

A **'Meet the Robinsons'** Fanfiction

-x- _Keruseya Natsuki -x-_

**Prologue**

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Four years.

That's a long period of time.

Forty-eight months.

One thousand four hundred sixty days.

Thirty-five thousand six hundred forty hours.

Two million one hundred thirty-eight thousand four hundred minutes.

Four years.

That's a long period of time.

It feels like forever when you happen to think the way I do.

I was twelve then. He, from the future, was thirteen. Like stated numerous times above, as four years past, we both got older. Smarter. Maybe he forgot about me. I know I didn't forget about him. I had actually thought he'd come back once in a while.

But no, he waited four years.

_Four years._

In my time, the year 2011, he came back, and not happy. Not exicted. Not with his cocky know-it-all grin or the warm, encouraging smile. He didn't even ask how I was.

I was working at C4R1 that moment, the earlier and non-upgraded version of Carl. That is when Wilbur arrived.

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**This story is gonna take time to write, but I'm ready:D Please rate + review.**


	2. 1: Back to the Future

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Beyond Reason

**Ch. 1 – Back to the Future**

So close to being done.

Lewis examined the neck springs on the golden-coloured robot one more time. Something in the wiring kept backfiring, misfunctioning, causing C4R1 to hesistate between syllables, and send out small electric shocks when looking around. It wasn't safe, not quite yet.

He wriggled out a screw with a plier-like tool. Wiping away the small beads of sweat on his brow, the blonde inventor looked with deep concentration at the problem. If the wrong wires were connected to the wrong circuitry, then one sure thing would happen- C4R1 would clearly go boom. But he had no sweet clue of what he was supposed to add, therefore spelling out the initial problem.

Huffing in frustration, Lewis closed his eyes. _'Keep moving forward'_. Uh huh. That's right. He squinted through one eye, and slowly edged his hand towards a blue wire hanging limp in the back of the robot's chest. Maybe it was just a wrong setup of wiring? If so, the problem was identified. Careful not to touch any other live wires with his metal tool, he made a steady reach for it.

The sudden rapping on the window pane from above nearly made the sixteen-year-old jump clean out of his skin. His hand twitched violently, causing a fireworks display of sparks from the robot and a string of curses from the startled boy. Pushing up circular-rimmed glasses to wide sapphire eyes, he looked up at the glass roof only to see a frantic black-haired boy peering back down at him.

"Lewis? Lewis! Open up!" he yelled, voice muffled slightly due to the thick glass barrier between them. The blonde-haired inventor nodded and dashed over to a blue button on the wall labelled 'Overhead Hatch', motioning for the boy to move to the side. As he pressed the button, one panel of the great glass dome ceiling slid under itself in layers. The intruding seventeen-year-old climbed quickly down the ladder along the wall, and strode with a quick step to his father-to-be.

Lewis blinked, still quite startled. He gazed in wonder at the brown-eyed teen standing before him, one he hadn't seen it what seemed like forever. "Uh… Wilbur? Hi…" he mumbled, noticing the height difference. Hah. He himself had grown, and though Wilbur had too, Lewis was now taller.

"H-hey, Lewis." Wilbur nodded, trying to catch his breath. He looked back up to the roof, then over to the ladder, and finally at Lewis. "You're needed in the future. Really. I… I don't know how to say it, but… well, we need your help. You'll understand." Wilbur stated, biting his lip and watching the blonde nervously.

Said blonde sighed. _Great to see you, too._ "I can't just up and leave, Wilbur… Bud and Lucille, you know how they are, they need to know where I am. I've finally settled in… is it _that_ important…?" he groaned. "I'd really love to, but…"

"No, Lewis." Wilbur shook his head. "I'm dead serious about this. Please. You could almost say that it's… your own life-or-death situation. Okay? I can explain more when we get home." He walked over to the workbench. "Hey, is this Carl?"

"Er- It's C4R1, you could call it Carl-in-the making. And, what do you mean _life-or-death?_" Lewis grimaced.

Wilbur frowned, something glowing in his eyes. "You'll see."

Lewis groaned. "Aw, alright. Gimme a sec to write a note to Bud. I'll say… I'm away at a university prep course for the day-"

"Lewis…" Wilbur started. "You'd be better off saying… two weeks."

The inventor nearly dropped the pen. "_What?!_" He asked in a shrill voice. "No way, Wilbur! That's insane!"

"No, no it isn't." the black-haired teen responded. His voice was getting choked up, making Lewis stop. In embarrassment, Wilbur turned away from him. "Please, Lewis, say two weeks."

Blue eyes watched Wilbur's back. The pen was on its third line of writing, ink barely on the paper. Lewis sighed hard and looked at what he wrote. He scribbled out the lame excuse, and put:

_Bud and Lucille:_

_Hey guys. I'm being whisked away for three weeks to somewhere you won't get ahold of me. But no worries, I'm in great hands. Please don't_ try_ and contact me, I assure you that in three weeks time or maybe less, I'll be back at your doorstep. This isn't running away, or kidnapping, or anything like that. A good friend needs help. I'll explain everything upon my return._

_All my love,_

_Cornelius Robinson_

_(Lewis)_

He dropped the pen after signing his name, and turned to Wilbur, who was examining the still-sparking C4R1. "Ah, don't touch right there-!" Lewis began, but a short BANG! resounded as three more sprockets blew.

Wilbur grinned in apology. "Eheh…" he started, but Lewis waved it off.

"Let's get going, then. Anything I should bring?" he asked, motioning to his clothes.

Wilbur nodded, rubbing his chin. "Definitely. Y'know, all the normal stuff. Ten minutes, so hurry." He waved Lewis off, spinning and stalking off to the ladder.

Lewis scoffed. "_My_ house, thank you. Well, hey, Wilbur, you sound normal again. Welcome back." He grinned. Wilbur put two hands in the air, nine of ten fingers stretched out. It was a sign that said, 'Clock is ticking… one minute down.' Lewis snorted at the all-too familiar attitude of his future son, and raced out of the lab to his room in a rush to pack.

Fifteen minutes later he reappeared, to the sound of Wilbur honking the horn of what looked like a brand new black time machine. He hopped out in order to help Lewis shove a large blue suitcase into the back, then they both climbed over the wing and into the cockpit. Lewis gazed fondly at the silver band of iron-metal on obsidian black.

"When was this one finished?" he asked in wonder.

Wilbur didn't respond for a moment as he turned on the engine. "Two years ago." He said in a low, detesting voice. Lewis raised an eyebrow as the 'elder' of the two yanked on the clutch, pulling the machine into the sky. "Lewis, promise me that you'll _never_ invent this one machine." He pleaded, watching in misery as a strange blue-green gas was emitted. "That's Typhaden Peroxide, or TDP as we like to call it. Nearly everything electric, since a year and a half ago, has been using it. Please don't invent it, Lewis."

"Uh… why not?"

The black-haired boy was silent for a few moments once again. Then with a look to the other in the pilot's mirror, brown eyes met blue. "That," he said softly, "..is an _excellent_ question."

The time machine let out a blue force field, the same colour as the blue TDP trail. It surrounded the transporter in an orb, where the past soon zapped into the future. Lewis looked around. It didn't seem _too_ much different than what he remembered- save for quite a few more flying automobiles and other small changes around. Four years, what seemed like forever to him, didn't do so much in the future. Then he reminded himself.

The year was now 2041.

A grin split across his face. If only Bud and Lucille knew.

The sky was a perfect blue, just as Lewis remembered it. No clouds, just a bunch of flying cars and high rise buildings that had a whole look all of their own. Wilbur swerved the machine around these many buildings, and they silently made their way to the Robinson garage. Lewis was relieved that he wasn't forced to wear a hat again this trip, though it did mean one thing: The Robinsons were expecting him.

Wilbur pulled the machine to a gentle halt once they rolled inside, flicking off the engine and the engage button. The blonde noticed in concern as Wilbur sat back in the seat for a moment, hand to his forehead. _'Is he sick?_' he thought in dismay, waiting patiently for his son to open the bubble hatch. After a minute or two, he did, and both boys hopped out onto the garage floor.

Lewis looked around inside the large room. He saw the prototype time machine in large glass dome not too far away, as well as the familiar blue one encased near it. Other than the black one they had just used, there was a white machine that appeared half-done. It was dusty, though, and it seemed nobody had worked on it for months. _Strange, _Lewis thought, _I never thought I would have just given up on it…_

"Uh, yeah, this way." Wilbur said slowly, pointing in the direction of one of the travel tubes. He started trudging towards it, making sure Lewis was on his heels.

Lewis bit his lip. "Wilbur? Seriously, whats wrong?" he asked quietly. "You're back to the silent act. Something's up." He pointed out. Wilbur didn't stop walking, instead giving a half-hearted shrug before being zipped up the blue pipe. Lewis groaned in annoyance, before he too was whisked away to another part of the house.

He landed in the living room. Glancing around for Wilbur, he saw him and Franny talking quietly in the corner.

"Hey, little boss!" piped up a voice from behind him, making Lewis jump nervously for the second time that day. He spun around quickly to see a bright-faced Carl, beaming down at him from the left side of the spiral staircase. Lewis chuckled and waved to the robot as Franny rushed over to him, Wilbur walking slowly behind her.

"Oh, Lewis! Wait, it's still Lewis, right?" she paused mid-hug.

Lewis grinned. "Nah, it's Cornelius, but I like to go by Lewis instead." He mumbled into her shoulder. "How are you, Mrs. Robinson?"

She looked at him funny. "Dear, you know you're gonna have to start calling me Franny. Mrs. Robinson just won't cut it for me in the past, if you know what I mean." She smiled sadly. Lewis nodded, and looked at Wilbur. The raven-haired boy gazed back at him, something far unreadable in his eyes. Franny turned to him. "Do you mind calling the family down? I'm sure they'd like to say hello."

Wilbur was quiet for a moment, but mumbled a 'yes mum' and set off in another transport tube. Franny turned back to Lewis, bright-faced.

"So, I'll ask Lefty to get your bags, and then we can put them in Wilbur's room. I'll also notify Carl that we're going to need a second bed in there… oh, I hope Wilbur has put away his Chargeball equipment… are you hungry dear?" She stopped, and looked into the young inventor's brilliant blue eyes. Her own of deep brown flickered for a moment, and she walked off to the kitchen. "Come get something to eat whenever you get hungry, okay? If nobody else is here, then just help yourself." She called over her shoulder, leaving Lewis to stand confused in the house lobby.

"Um… right." He said to himself, watching her disappear around a corner calling for Lefty. Not wanting to run into the giant butler himself, he sat down on the first step to the upstairs. He wasn't alone for long. Fritz, Petunia, Tallulah and Laszlo came rushing up to him, Tallulah pulling him into a hug.

"Aw, you're as adorable as you were last time!" she exclaimed in her low voice. Laszlo flew around Lewis' head with his mural gun as Fritz and Petunia both greeted him. Lewis grinned even wider when Billie and Joe appeared, adding to the family crowd.

Billie grinned. "You're back again, little Lewis. Maybe 'zis time you can take a ride on my toy train." She purred, accent slurring all the words. Lewis nodded eagerly. He hoped that she'd allow him to take a look at the engineering, as well. He hugged her, and waited for the next part of the family to come by.

After a few minutes wait, Art and Gaston arrived out of another travel tube, followed by the older Bud and Lucille. Art greeted Lewis quickly, explaining he had a delivery to make as he dashed off to the yard, Gaston right behind him as he waved a quick goodbye.

Bud laughed. "Gaston, the young chipper. He got himself a job working at that new local Spaghetti Stop in town. They say he's been the best meatball-maker in years." He nodded, and looked at Lewis. "Glad you're home… son." Lucille waved quickly, but didn't say a word.

Lewis noticed that Franny and Wilbur had re-appeared. His future self, Cornelius, wasn't with them. Franny grinned.

"So everyone has been reunited. Carl?" she called out, and the robot appeared once again over the banister of the stairs.

"Yes, Franny?" he asked, striding down the steps. He came to a halt in front of her. "If it's about that second bed, then it's already done. I heard ya the first time. Hey, little boss. Have ya had the time to invent me yet?" the golden machine asked, eyes wide.

Lewis chuckled. "I've been warned of how long it took. I'm on the first version, C4R1. It's done. Well, no, it would have been, if it Wilbur hadn't… messed it up…" the blonde sighed, making Carl groan and 'tsk' the black-haired seventeen year old. Wilbur rolled his eyes and gave a small apologetic grin.

"So, Lewis, how 'ave you been ze last four years?" Billie inquired, question catching the attention once again of the rest of the family. There was a sharp silence, and Lewis blinked. All eyes more than obviously wanted to hear the response.

"Well? I mean, I've been well. Like I said, Carl is in-the-making, I've got a few things like the levitation boots started-" Lazslo grinned, and tapped the boots. "-and there are a few other things I've found ideas for. A friend of mine is experimenting mixing plant genes with human genes… and I think that's where Spike and Demeitri come in, if you know what I mean." He laughed.

"So _that's_ where they came from!" Wilbur exclaimed, nodding in understanding. "Dad's buddies. Well, it's good to know." He pointed out, and Lucille agreed. She had wondered why there were arguing plants appearing her house. Bud had thought they were special police that had been hired to find his pants- which, after the plaid jeans were found soaking in the dishwasher, had strangely stayed and had been living with them the dozen years since.

Once the chatter about the newly-discovered secret had died down some, Lewis remembered a question he had wanted to ask Wilbur, about what the boy had told him back at the Robinson house in the past. He trodded over to his future son, getting his attention, and pulling him to the side.

"Yeah, Lewis? Something up?" the teen asked, seeing a troubled look on Lewis' face.

Lewis nodded. "You said back at my place that there was a situation- my 'life or death' problem. Nothing seems wrong…" he trailed off.

Wilbur's eyes widened, and he cast them to the floor. "Lewis, I-"

"Is there some kind of experiment not working? That white time machine I saw?"

"No, Lewis-"

"-can't figure out some history homework?"

"-That's not it, Lewis, wait-"

The young blonde inventor hadn't noticed the silence that fell uneasily across the room, and that he had earned the fixated gaze of all the people within it yet again. Wilbur bit his lip nervously, but Lewis kept talking.

"-problem with it? Wait, Wilbur, where's your dad? Where am I?" he paused, finally noticing the lack of sound. Wilbur shook his head, glaring at Lewis than looking with a tearful gaze at his mom, before turning on his heel and dashing underneath the nearest travel tube, covering his face with his hands.

There were gasps of concern and shock from the rest of the family, and Lewis spun, confused, to look at Franny. She sobbed twice, before walking carefully over to the younger version of her husband and pulling him into an even tighter hug. Minutes later, when she let him go, she wiped her eyes and placed a caring hand on his shoulder. The sixteen year old noticed that the family had dispersed to their own quarters.

Lewis could swear his heart had stopped that moment. The way she was acting… it was something bad. Wilbur hadn't been kidding.

"L-Lewis…" Franny started, looking him in the eyes. "I hope that Wilbur told you that Cornelius really needs your help. He's…" she sniffed, dropping her face to her free hand. "He's sick, and the doctors say he's dying. W-within the week."

Lewis felt a sudden pain in his chest. Dying? Sympathy for Wilbur, Franny, and the rest of the family came flooding to him. He opened his mouth to apologize.

Then, like a ton of bricks, the realisation hit him.

'… _I'm going to die.'_

Lewis felt his stomach sink to his knees, and his sight snapped to black as he fainted.

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**How was it? It's my second MtR fic, I'm proud to say. This is gonna be a good chapter fic, I have quite a few chapters already planned out. :P I plan it being 10-12 in total, for those of you who want an exact range. Each chapter takes 2 days (at least) to write, though. oo**

**Feel dreadfully sorry for Lewis, I do. Especially with what I have planned. But don't worry, **_**yes**_** he does get to see Cornelius and **_**yes**_** he does put his good old chemestry skills to work. But that's not telling anything of how the end will turn out. Most of the other characters will appear in the story more- like Billie, she rocks. You'll see some Laszlo, and some Gaston as well. Characters I know nothing about, like Joe and Fritz, might not come back often, but they **_**will**_** return! **

**x) Be prepared for a wild ride of a story, in a world and with an author where literally **_**anything**_** can happen. Three cheers for **_Meet the Robinsons_

**Gosh, I love the future.**

Keruseya Natsuki

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	3. 2: Time Unclaimed

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Beyond Reason

**Ch. 2 – Time Unclaimed**

Vibrant blue eyes opened to darkness. Lewis blinked once, twice, trying to silently figure out where he was. He remembered why he passed out, the shocking revelation of the truth, but he pushed it away to the corners of his mind. It wasn't time for that. Well, not this very moment.

As his eyes adapted to the dim light from the window, he looked up at the ceiling. The room was two stories high, with a travel tube connecting the two separate parts. A large solar system model floated in mid-air in a gap between the two levels, and many strange gadgets and games lined the walls. A giant screen with a sign reading 'Chargeball' stood against one of the walls, giving away the location as Wilbur's room.

He heard steady breathing and looked to his side. Over on the other bed, less than five feet from where he himself lay in darkness, was Wilbur. The raven-haired boy was laying partially on his side, one hand laying on his stomach and one loosely clutching the blankets around his face. His eyes were closed, as was expected of someone asleep. As Lewis watched in discreet fascination, Wilbur's lips move but no sound came out.

The blonde sighed. The other teenager's eyes flickered, eyebriws knitting for a quick second before face relaxing again. '_A dream?'_ Lewis noticed a dark patch of cloth under Wilbur's eyes. '_Tears? Was he crying?' _he mentally smacked himself. Of course.

The blonde grimaced at how careless he had been with his words.

'_I'm such a jerk.'_ Lewis thought to himself bitterly. In self annoyance he flopped over and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and closing his eyes to get back to sleep himself. Out of nowhere, as if expecting Wilbur to hear or answer him, he mumbled something quietly.

"I'm so sorry."

As Lewis let himself fall into sleep once more, he swore he had heard a hitch in his friend's even breathing.

[-x-

The blonde-haired teen trudged into the kitchen, glaring at the clock. It was almost ten in the morning. Never in his whole life had he woken up _that_ late, even if he had been working on a project for the entire day before. He looked around, not hearing or seeing anybody in sight. He sighed incontently and spotted a blue piece of paper on the counter.

He looked at it, instantly recognizing it as a note adressed to himself. Straightening his glasses as he picked it up, Lewis rubbed his eyes and read.

_Good morning Lewis:_

_I hope you're feeling better today. I didn't expect something like that last night, but like everything else around here, it's understandable._

_Tallulah, Lucille and I stepped out to get some groceries, and possibly a few other things. Art and Gaston are off to work, Bud is out with Fritz golfing- Petunia is with them, obviously. Joe, Billie, Laszlo and Wilbur should all be home, though. Billie likes to hang out at the station; her train goes through the lobby, so just hop on that and you'll reach her. Joe is in their room, but it's off-bounds for now. He's working out, it wouldn't be good to bother him. Laszlo and Wilbur could be anywhere, just make sure they aren't in the lab, okay, hun?_

_I'm going to see Cornelius on my way home. I plan on taking you and Wilbur with me to see him again tomorrow. He'd like that, I'm sure of it. _

_Anyways, make yourself something to eat if you're hungry. I have toast in the levi-tray near the first fridge, and there is an assortment of yogurts in the other near the second. Ignore the chicken heating in the levi-tray on the island bar, it's being cooked for supper._

_If you're bored, Frankie could always use some help in the music room! Oh, and dear, don't worry about Wilbur. He's just having a hard time right now, he's pretty upset. If you get a chance to talk to him, I suggest taking it._

_-Franny_

Lewis scanned the entire note, eyes pausing on the last paragraph. He put it down and glanced over to the first fridge. Blinking in amazement, he watched as two pieces of toast hovered in mid-air, seemingly unsupported by anything within a bubble. He cautiously stuck his hand inside, and grabbed one.

"A 'levi-tray', huh? Cool." He grinned, and looked over to the other fridge, noticing another bubble containing yogurt. He could do without. Locating the utensil drawer, he took out a knife. After the toast was buttered, he sat down at the counter and started to study the levi-tray that held a roasting chicken.

Minutes later, Laszlo flew in, decked in his usual white attire and clutching his mural gun. His face brightened up when he spotted Lewis, and hovered down to sit beside him.

"Having fun yet?" Laszlo asked, and with a flick of his hand, the second fridge door sprung open. A smoothie flew out and into his free hand, before he virtually flicked the door closed again.

"I guess. What is there to do, right now?" Lewis asked, glancing from the fridge to the orange-haired boy. Before he could respond, though, Lewis gave another question that had been on his mind. "Laszlo, your dad Fritz is brothers with Bud, right? That means you're the same generation as Cornelius– well, me. In the future. So why are you considered Wilbur's cousin, and not Cornel- wait, mine?"

Laszlo stopped sipping the cold beverage. He put his mural gun on the table and scratched his head. "I'm not sure, y'know. It's probably just the fact there's such an age difference between Bud and pops, I guess."

"Oh? Then what should I call you?"

The redhead laughed. "Call me Laszlo. It's my name, after all! But I get what you're saying. Seeing as you are over twenty years older than me, let's just call me your nephew." He paused. "Whoa. A sixteen year-old is calling me his nephew."

Lewis laughed. "Right." He took his empty plate and stood up. "So, what do you want to do? Can I examine the finished levitation boots afterwards? I need to see what I'm doing wrong." He pointed out. Laszlo agreed, and they set out in the direction of the second floor.

[-x-

"Never been up here, Lewis?" the older boy laughed, watching amused as the blonde's head whipped back and forth, taking in every detail of the upstairs hallway. "It's a good thing I'm here. Lefty's very precautious about this part of the house. Me, Tallulah, pops and mum have our rooms up here, as do Lefty, Carl, and occasionally, Cornelius."

"Occasionally?"

"Yeah. Sometimes late at night when he finished working, he would come crash in one of the spare rooms instead of risking waking Franny. There's a room built on the lab special for him, he says, and it's hidden. Nobody, not even Lefty, can find it."

"Oh."

Laszlo nodded. "Another great thing about upstairs, though…" he started, coming to a door that had a paintbrush and pallet embedded in design, "…is my gallery!" he yelled, opening the door with a handprint-scanner device.

Lewis awed at the work. It wasn't just a mural gun Laszlo used; obviously other inventions came first, for sculpting, sketching, model-making. Some of the designs here were much like some of the wooden airplanes and stone sculptures in Wilbur's room, leading the young inventor to believe that Laszlo made them for his 'cousin'.

"How long does it take you to do each of these?" Lewis wondered aloud. The orange-haired boy near him shrugged.

"Some take five minutes, the recent ones." He pointed out, all done with the mural gun. "The older ones were done by different types of inventions, all of which you made. They became faster to use each time, though, it took the fun out of taking your time."

He drew out his mural gun, motioning to a dial on the grey handle. "Now you just turn the knob, and you spray an instant picture. Cornelius was working on one where it scans your mind for something you're picturing in your head, and it'll spray that instead." Laszlo frowned. "He didn't exactly get around to it, though. I don't blame him."

Lewis looked down at the ground as they left the gallery, and started walking down the hall with Laszlo floating along beside him. "Hey… can you tell me what happened to him? To Cornelius? How did he get sick?" he whispered.

The goggled man slowed down, and sighed. "I can't tell you everything, because I don't _know_ everything. You'd have to talk to Franny or Wilbur for that. But you mentioned yesterday, the unfinished white time machine? It's not what you think it is. It's not a time machine, that's for sure."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "What is it, then?"

Laszlo shrugged sadly. "I'm not really sure. He didn't get around to telling us. But he knew it was the fumes, something in those gases are toxic if we spend long enough hanging around with them. It's TDP, or-"

"Typhaden Peroxide." Lewis finished with a nod.

"Yes. Well, anyways, one day the toxins just got to him. Because it was a gas he invented, and the fatality of it wasn't known at the time, we didn't have enough time to come up with a proper antidote." He whispered sadly. "I guess that's why Franny wanted you to come, she hoped that somehow you would figure it out."

The blonde inventor's eyes widened? "Me? I haven't even heard of most the stuff you use today! You've probably discovered a hundred more elements, and new materials and mixtures and _everything_! How am I going to be able to help? I'm just-"

"-him. You are him, and that's why Franny believes in you so much. That's why we all need to believe in you; who else would stand any chance? Many people have tried, even cousin Wilbur. For his father's life." Laszlo pointed out.

"Wilbur tried inventing…?"

Laszlo nodded. "He also came closer than anyone else. Claimed he had never done anything of the sort before. Spent eight full days and nights up in his father's lab, mind set on keeping the man alive." The boy sighed sadly. "Wilbur tried three times. The first time it almost worked, but his father wasn't able to keep it down. The second time was amazing, Cornelius came home for a few days before something triggered the problem, and he was sent back."

"To the hospital?"

"Yes. Then, the third try…"

Lewis blinked. There was a hint of worry in Laszlo's voice. "Yes? Did something go wrong?"

The orange-haired male bit his lip. "Let's put it this way. Before the third attempt, Cornelius was expected to live just less than a year. We don't know what went wrong between the second and third attempts, but the reaction was bad."

The blonde sixteen-year-old's eyes shot wide. A year, cut down to a week.

Laszlo noticed this expression. "Exactly. It was more a poison than antidote. As expected, Wilbur gave up. He thought he had killed his father -you- and so he didn't want to try anymore. He was horrified."

Lewis clenched his fists. "Well, wouldn't you be? The life of the person he loves-" Lewis stopped, and dropped his head to his hands, falling into a plush couch. "_My_ life has just been severed by over fifty! A week… oh, Wilbur…"

He fell back against the couch, Laszlo hovering near him. Lewis felt like crying, like screaming. He would be the first person in history ever to watch his own self die.

No.

He wouldn't die. Cornelius wouldn't die. That's why Lewis was brought to the future, wasn't it? To keep himself alive? The boy clenched his jaw. "Laszlo." He started. "Do you know where Wilbur is? Right now?"

"No, Lewis, sorry. I haven't seen him since breakfast." Laszlo sighed. "But if you're lucky, or terribly unlucky, he might be up in the lab. You should go check."

The blonde stared incontently at his hands for a moment, then looked to his future-nephew's goggled eyes. "Thanks." He whispered, giving the boy a warm smile. Laszlo nodded his understanding, and waving goodbye, returned back upstairs. Lewis continued to sit there, thinking things over a bit more slowly.

Cornelius had invented this 'Typhaden Peroxide- TDP'. There must have been some script that showed just how it was done. Would Wilbur have already found it? Lewis hoped dearly that chemicals wouldn't have changed too much since 2011. He reviewed a list of mixtures in his mind, none which he could picture useful in this problem or time.

He got to his feet and walked around the left side of the stairs. He knew well enough that the lab was somewhere in this direction. At the end of the hall was a great set of double-doors that had scientific symbols engraved into it. _Bingo. _Lewis picked up his pace and came up to the door, looking in doubt at the hand-scanner to his left.

He looked at it awkwardly. Would the scanner recognize him? What would happen if it didn't? Lewis looked once again at the tall, unmoving set of doors. It'd be his best bet to try, anyhow. He placed his small right hand into the scanner slot, and it beeped.

"Welcome, Lewis Robinson." Came a computer-automated reply. Lewis sighed in relief and took the steps two at a time once the door opened, hearing it click and beep shut once he was past. The boy stopped leaping once he had reached the top. He peeked warily around the stairs.

Wilbur was standing with his back to Lewis, holding something large and blue. It appeared to be some sort of screen, though if there was an image that was meant to appear, it was blank. The black-haired seventeen-year-old was looking at it, frusterated and intrigued. He turned it over, looking for buttons or dials or _something_ to indicate it worked, but there were only two small gel pads on each handle, and the empty black screen.

The blonde stood up slowly. "Wilbur?"

He didn't expect it to startle the boy quite _that_ much. Wilbur jumped, nearly dropping the device. Catching it quickly, he placed it back on a shelf, and spun wildly to face the intruder.

"Oh… Lewis…" his voice wafted across the room softly, as he recognized the figure as a younger version of the person he had wished it to be. Wilbur lazily cast his eyes floorwards, staying put silently as Lewis made his way over.

"Hi. Er… what are you doing up here?" the young inventor asked, clearing his throat. He wasn't quite sure what to say; he hadn't thought about the awkwardness this situation would bring. He gazed at Wilbur, expectant for a response, but the boy just shrugged. Wilbur glanced back over to the device he had laid down.

"What is that?" Lewis asked quietly, trying to start up some kind of conversation. The blue and white device didn't look very spectacular compared to most other things in the lab. Wilbur picked it up, and turned around to face Lewis.

"It's… something you invented, a few months ago. Before you got sick. It's called a TBS… I think. To-Be Screen. You have to know your deepest wish for it to work, though. Your first-hand goal. It will show you that wish happening." He explained, turning the device over in his hands yet again.

"But not all wishes come true, right? Is what the screen shows really going to happen?"

Wilbur laughed. "Nah, it _is_ true. For some unexplainable reason deepest wonders and wishes have a habit of happening. But you can't wish to be the richest person in the world and have it just _become_. Nobody, even if they disagree, _nobody_ has the greatest wish of being rich." He paused. "There always seems to be something in in your heart that is deeper than just that."

Lewis nodded in understanding. "What does it show for you?" he inquired.

Wilbur shifted uncomfortably. "I… I thought I knew." He sighed. "Obviously I don't, because the screen stays blank."

"Huh." The blonde sighed. There was a pregnant silence between them, which was soon broken by the tapping of Lewis' feet across the floor. "It really is amazing in here."

Wilbur gazed at his future father, standing perfectly healty in front of him. "Lewis. You didn't just come up here to say hello. You came up here because someone told you what had happened. You know I screwed up."

"…I'm sorry."

"Well?"

Lewis blinked. "Um… well, what?"

Wilbur's steady brown met big blue. Lewis gulped, seeing the black-haired teen's eyes glaze over. "Are you going to help?"

The blonde looked at him with a weirded-out expression, but reassuring nonetheless.

"Of course, Wilbur."

"…Thanks."

* * *

**I didn't just 'make up' that house layout. It's right off the PS2 game, where you can explore the entire Robinson house (so fun)! I didn't explain it as well as I would have liked, but hey, I'm not gonna go through it detail-by-detail for no reason.**

**Like I said, Laszlo popped up. :P He's so great. It takes like, two days per chapter. **

* * *


	4. 3: Mistakes & Miracles

_**Quick Author's Comments...**  
Okay, so this is kind of hard. I feel extremely bad for just... well, leaving this story after having gotten so many good reviews. I haven't done anything to it in 11 months (like, holy s, right?!)... and I'm going to try and get back into it. I have a novel in real life I plan on releasing soon, and I've been real busy with it, but I shouldn't have let this go. :( I let Wilbur down. So even though it might not be 12 chapters, I'm going to write a couple more. Hang in with me!_

* * *

Beyond Reason

**Ch. 3 - Mistakes & Miracles**

He watched in complete frustration as the bubbling grey goo spilled over the sides of his flask. This wasn't right! Wilbur glanced over at his young father, seeing the blonde's own concoction turn a misty grey. "We're doing something wrong." The brown-eyed boy muttered just loud enough for the other to hear as he set the mess of an attempt down on the lab counter.

Lewis turned to match Wilbur's annoyed look, his cerulean eyes brimming with confusion. There was something in them that reflected more than determination. Wilbur respected that. Here was a teenager, fighting for his life- thirty years into the future of his own time.

The blonde wiped sweat from his face as he took off a pair of goggles and replaced them with his glasses. "I know. The second one I made had a good feeling to it, and this one just doesn't have any of that. Your try, the one that nearly worked, what did the final result look like? Or have in it?"

Wilbur's mind reeled as he struggled to bring back the experiment. "It was lime green. Dad almost wouldn't drink it because he thought it was radio-active." A slight laugh came from the tired seventeen year-old. "A lot thinner than this, too. But I can't seem to recall... what I'm doing different."

"Did you write down any of your work?"

There was a long silence.

"Oh, c'mon, Wilbur, you're kidding me! What use is that, if you don't record anything...?" Lewis huffed, blue eyes judging.

The black-haired boy scratched his head. "_Honestly_, now. We're talking about me. Work like writing is used in school and such... it's not the kind of thing I do everyday. Not that I fiddle in the lab everyday, either. How am I supposed to know to write stuff down?"

Wilbur was given a reply in a glare and a tap to the head that clearly meant '_common sense_'.

"Well, I didn't, okay?" He scowled heavily. "Just read out the names on some of the jars, I might recognize them."

He took a seat on a stool not too far away. Lewis muttered a string of words that Wilbur couldn't hear, and stepped up to examine shelves full of jars. Wilbur was quick to realise that Lewis had grown quite a fair amount in the four years since they had met- the boy, though a year younger than him, was at least an inch taller. Whenever his growth spurt had been, it had given him quite a height.

"Um, okay, so... here we have Anscem Tazol, Juveric Hyoride, Klep... Klepk... Klep-can-vosk...? Klep-can-vosk Nitride?" The bottle read something spelled K-L-E-H-P-K-I-A-H-N-V-O-S-C-H.

"It's pronounced Klep-quan-voh-psych. Klehpkiahnvosch Nitride. I remember that one! Bring it here." Wilbur said hurriedly, looking in at the yellow powder. "Yeah, looks right. A cup of that..."

"_You're just guessing?!_" Lewis cried in fear. His son-to-be was just too much.

Wilbur turned to him with a grin. "Of course not. For all of my previous experiments, I only put in a cup of each base. I remember this one, so I'll put in a cup."

The blonde stared. Basic enough.

Wilbur chuckled to himself as he took his seat on the stool once more. He had to get this right. A heavy feeling weighed down his every thought lately, a constant nausea and fear swept through every dream. His mom had told him that they were visiting the hospital tomorrow. _'Tomorrow,'_ he thought with a pang of guilt that wanted to make him cry, _'I'm going to have to count down another day. Oh, dad...'_

A comforting hand on his shoulder did little to help. Wilbur didn't know how this boy standing in front of him could have enough strength to realise the situation at face _and_ handle it as easily and calmly as he was. _"It's you!" _the black-haired teen wanted to scream at his healthy, albeit much younger father. _"How are you not... afraid?"_

"C'mon, Wilbur. We've got to keep trying, don't give up on him yet. Well, I mean, _me_."

Wilbur didn't answer.

Lewis kicked the stool from underneath him, and with a grunt the black-haired mope toppled to the floor.

"Hey, that's not cool! You just wait, Lewis, I'll get you back for-"

The blonde wasn't listening to a word. Instead he was gawking at the 'stool' which had been kicked. As the blanket uncovering it slid off and a jar rolled out from underneath it, Wilbur swore.

The turquoise-colored jar, presumably and thankfully plastic, rolled out from underneath. In bold black font, the words letters 'TDP-Dust' were written across the visible side. Lewis carefully picked it up in shaking hands; it was heavy, and twice the size of his head. On the reverse side from the name, a list of seven materials used were scratched into the plastic.

"Hey Wil, think you'd recognize the stuff you used if you read the name of the counter-opposing?" Lewis asked quietly, his voice trembling with anticipation.

Wilbur scrambled from the floor.

* * *

"And lastly, Beryllium Cuoffsate."

"Bery- that must have been the one I left out! It's reverse effect element is Cytonic Cuoffsate, I didn't add that originally!" Wilbur yelled in disbelief, with a large smile plastered across his face. "What does the book say?"

"Hold on a sec..." Lewis murmered as he scrolled through a book of definitions. "Cy... okay, here it is."

The black-haired teen leapt over to the blonde as he propped the book up slightly.

" 'Cytonic Cuoffsate, 14-R' " Lewis started, blue eyes scanning quickly. " 'In powder form, also known as Cytonic Cuoffsatsa. Reduces high amounts of energy power and protects the senses of sight and taste from the effects of its opposing element, Beryllium Cuoffsate/Cuoffsatsa. When mixed with 12-D and 12-H, it may be used as an antidote for cell or nerve aggravation.' "

Wilbur looked at him blankly. "Translate it to English."

"Basically, if we mix it with the stuff we have in the brew already, it _won't_ cancel out any of the good after-effects, but it'll cure stuff like... overreacting pain in the nerves or... or it will stop whatever is destroying his, uh, _my _cells."

Eyes wide, Wilbur grabbed the junior inventor's shoulders and shook him, his face breaking into a smile. "That's so right! Perfect! Okay, let's add some. That's it!"

The shock-green coloured liquid hissed a bit as the Cuoffsate was added. It formed into something a bit more dark, an emerald green that still was bright.

The two boys stared at it for a little while, before Lewis finally whispered, "Is it done?"

His son to-be looked up at him from across the counter, eyes glazed over with pure happiness. _'He can't even understand what a miracle this is. I can't believe it. Lewis... dad... thank you...'_

"That is an _excellent _question."

* * *

When Franny came in the door at quarter after nine, she was surprised to find both the boys on the couch in their television room, fast asleep. Wilbur took up most of the couch- all of it, really, one leg dangling of the arm and the other off the side, hands lazily placed over his stomach with his head in Lewis' lap. Said blonde was resting back against the sofa, glasses askew on his face and hair ruffled.

The black-haired woman smiled sadly. She didn't want to tell them that Cornelius' health was deteriorating, fast. She rubbed her eyes and let out a sigh, before turning off the light.

"Mrs. Robinson?"

Franny turned back to see the sleepy Lewis glance at her from over the sofa. His voice was strained, and yet he tried to whisper. "Yes dear?" She asked quietly as she tip-toed over, trying not to wake her son. Lewis gave her a calm look, as if his emotion was undecided.

Then he smiled. "I think... I think we _did it_."

"Er- did what, dear?" She continued with a nervous smile. "Do I really want to know or is it to be kept between... um, you two...?"

Lewis didn't understand at first what this random seriousness was about, why Franny didn't- _oh shoot._ "N-no, not... not... eh!" The blonde squeaked, his face red. "I meant the remedy! A cure! I think me 'n Wilbur found a proper cure!"

There was a moment of complete silence, and his future wife brought her hands to her lips in shock. "You're serious? That's..." She paused, not sure what to say. Her eyes became wet and she kissed his forehead "That's... wonderful... what did Wilbur say?"

"I'm pretty sure he thinks it's perfect too. We worked on it most of the day."

Lewis smiled warmly as Franny put her face in her hands. "Thank you Lewis... so much. We'll give him some tomorrow..."

"How am I doing? Well, him."

"..."

"Mrs. Robinson?"

"It's Franny, dear. He's... not looking good. In a coma as of early this morning, the doctors said."

"Oh... I'm sorry..."

Franny gave a slight laugh and gently combed through Lewis' hair with her fingers. "No, it's me that's sorry, Lewis, we should've gotten to you earlier. I'm glad I put all my confidence in you. How did you do it?"

"By chance, really, we found the originial powdered formula for TDP. We read the ingredients and countered them, and then countered any effects that were bad from _that_. Scientifically in my day, there'd be no way such a thing should work, but now you've got an entirely different system of elements. Wilbur's sure of it."

"You're only in grade ten, aren't you?"

Lewis blushed. "Yes, ma'am. But I'm currently studying university third-year chemistry and physics, and I've got quite a few calculus and technology credits under my belt as well. First year university English, as well as German and French and Spanish a bit lower than that. The only reason I haven't skipped forwards is because of Phys-Ed and... well, music." He added sheepishly. Franny gave him an odd look.

"Have we started dating yet?"

"Beginning of last year. Frankie's already quite a hit, though 'yet to work on singing high notes and vowels' as you like to put it."

This rewarded him with a smile from the lady. "Nice to hear that. You wait until prom; that night is one you'll never forget." She laughed when Lewis' eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Oh calm down. And just a heads up: we do break up- twice, in fact, but you always came running back to me."

"I'm sorry, but this just turned into a _really awkward_ conversation."

"Tell me about it," Came a disgruntled voice from Lewis' lap. Wilbur raised his head and glared at his mom. "Stop it with that, will you _please_? It's like you're flirting with my best friend. Ugh, creepy."

Franny grinned. "Goodnight, boys. Don't stay up too late. I've heard from Lewis here that tomorrow's going to be an important day." She turned to leave. At the stairs, she paused, and turned around again. "And really, thank you, Lewis," she added before disappearing up the steps.

The cerulean-eyed boy looked down at Wilbur. "She's got a point. Let's get upstairs. Besides, my arse is numb from not moving for so long."

"Too much information, man," Wilbur laughed as he stretched and got to his feet, offering a hand out to the blonde. Lewis accepted it, before being pulled into a heavy bear hug. He knew that not any word or phrase would be suitable for Wilbur to say right now. 'Thanks' was much too little. But apart from everything, he knew that the hug was filled with every emotion the black-haired seventeen year-old had in him at the time.

Fear, relief, worry, anticipation, love, dread, sadness, and happiness. Somehow, he knew they were all there, plus many more. Lewis hugged him back, and when Wilbur finally let go, his chocolate eyes were brimmed over with tears. It was only a few mere seconds, but Lewis thought he had seen the older reflection of himself in his son's eyes.

They turned without words, and trudged across the hall and around the stairwell to the corrider which housed Wilbur's room, silence only interrupted by their footsteps and the occasional hiccough. They took turns getting changed for bed, each having their own tonight (thankfully, Lewis thought). As the sixteen year-old folded his circular-rimmed glasses and set them carefully on a the nightstand between Wilbur's bed and the one which had been placed for him, he wondered what would happen...

...if it didn't work.

"Goodnight, Lewis." Wilbur whispered as he pulled back his sheets and slipped under, his genetic cowlick hair settling down on the pillow undisturbed. "And thanks."

Lewis grinned as he slipped into his own cozy bed. "Don't mention it. Goodnight, Wilbur."

* * *

**I know. It's at least 600 words shorted than the other two chapters. But I have to make time for my head to work again. Did this in three hours! There'll be a couple more chapters. Please review, and don't give up on me yet!!**

**-Seya**

PS- I think I need to reply the video game. ;;


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